‘The past is a foreign country: they do things differently there.’ (L. P Hartley: The Go-Between)

A generation that walked to school every day and we walked back home just as easily.

We were a generation that did our homework by ourselves, eager to finish and rush outside to play in the streets.

We spent nearly every free moment with our friends outside, letting the hours pass while we climbed trees, played tag, and raced our bikes down the block.

We were a generation that stayed out until the streetlights came on, and when it grew dark, we would keep playing, hiding in the shadows in endless games of hide-and-seek.

We were a generation that made mudcakes and didn’t worry about getting messy. We collected sports cards, baseball cards, and any little treasures we could trade or show off to our friends.

Finding, cleaning, and returning empty Coke bottles to the local grocery store for a few cents became our ticket to a cold Mountain Dew or a candy bar—the simple treasures of our time.

We were a generation that found joy in creating paper toys with our bare hands. We saved up for vinyl records to play on record players, letting the music crackle through the speakers as we listened together.

Collecting photos and saving every memory we could in scrapbooks became a way to remember those golden days. On rainy afternoons, we gathered to play board games and cards, filling the house with laughter and the spirit of friendly competition.

Back then, books and novels that are today banned or censored were on all the shop shelves. The book shop history section was filled with books written by honest historians and ex-servicemen about World War II and Hitler all of which have since been removed.

Newspapers offered insights penned by columnists who had a wide diversity of views that would today be considered politically incorrect. We take such freedoms for granted.  

Our TVs didn’t run all night—instead, they signed off with the National Anthem at midnight, and that was our cue to wind down. There were no race mixing advertisements or sitcoms heavily promoting diversity, no programmes putting White people down. It was a far healthier time.

Our parents were there, close by and involved in our lives, guiding us and keeping us grounded.

We’d lie in bed at night, laughing under the covers, careful not to let our parents hear us as we whispered stories and secrets, trying to squeeze a little more fun out of each day.

We are a generation that is slowly passing, and no matter how hard we try, we can’t bring those days back. That time was unique, marked by simple joys and a kind of freedom that’s hard to find now.

Growing up when we did was a gift. It was a time filled with memories we’ll always hold close, and I’ll always be grateful for it. PLEASE SHARE OUR STORIES ON SOCIAL MEDIA

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